A Visit to the Grave
by daisherz365
Summary: Molly decides to go to Sherlock's grave to say her goodbyes. She finds herself in the company of an old friend and a shovel is involved. Set after TRF.


**A Visit to the Grave**

She knew it was silly to come here. Especially when she knew what was the truth and all the lying she had done previously. She wanted to come anyway. She had been thinking of him as she had tea with John. They were a few blocks away from Baker Street at a small cafe. John looked better today, he actually smiled a bit. Molly figured that was a very good sign.

She hadn't brought anything with her. Just her person and a few thoughts milling through her head. Thoughts of Sherlock Holmes.

She hesitated upon reaching the grave. There were fresh flowers set around the large stone. She sighed as she started at it. The feelings of guilt and wrongness at being here. She should just turn back now before she did anything else.

She shook her head. Nope, she was still here. She tucked her hands in the pockets of her trousers as she shuffled from one side and to the other. Swallowing as she tried to speak the words that seemed to clutter her head. It was empty now. Just a blank canvas of small reasons why she should just go home and cuddle up with Toby who was most certainly happy to have someone to play with and feed him.

Molly closed her eyes and focused on her breathing as everything slowly started to come back. The moment in the morgue, the fall, everything afterwards.

The words started to tumble out her mouth without much of an indication that she was aware of it. "This is probably very stupid but I never did what everyone else did. After it happened I sorta hid away for awhile so…this is really weird. You are really a horrible person but you're also very kind even if you try not to be. John made you better. God." She huffed as if realizing how much she hated to admit that. She did hate it.

She was spiteful about her lack thereof an actually functioning relationship between her and the absent detective. "Anyway, you did your best. I was good at least trying to show you that I was - am your friend. Even if I don't count. You said I do, I honestly don't though."

Molly stops again and kicks a bit of the dirt. "This is really difficult. It shouldn't be that hard. I know that you're not really…you're not really." She exhales another slow breath. "Well I guess I should go. This didn't really work how I thought it would. You said I was never good with words but how could I when you made the most normal phrases turn into some sort of lavish language. So I can just end it here. Not like you can exactly hear me. So…goodbye."

Molly opens her eyes and looks at the grave again and almost wishes she had brought something she could smash it with. This is the biggest proof of how much of a lie she is harboring. She gets ready to go back the way she came when she is cut off by the familiar baritone of the consulting detective.

"You're right, Molly. That was probably the most moronic thing you could ever do. If someone was there. If John decided to come today."

"You're blond. It's not even a good shade." She tells him quietly as she joins him near the trees where he is not doing a good job of concealing himself.

"What? Oh. Yes, I cut it as well. Regardless, back to what I was saying…" He almost starts again when he feels the soft blow that Molly directs at his shoulder. It only feels like a small flick but it catches his attention.

"Rude." She tells him with a small smile. Her eyes trail down along his side where he has a hand on the handle of what appears to be a shovel. A very large one at that. "What do you have that for?"

"I felt like digging up some bodies, what does it look like?"

"With you I can never know." She tells him honestly as her eyes connect with his again. He does look better than the last time she's seen him. That was half a year ago and was only long enough that she could stitch him up then he was out of her humble abode before she could even ask if he was okay.

He looks appalled briefly before it seems like he has remembered something. "I killed another one. Doing my own clean up. It's a bit tedious but gives me time to think." He pauses for a moment as he stares at his only true ally at the moment. This is the first time he's ever told her anything about anything that concerns this. "Coffee, Molly?"

"What?" She blinks out of her daze that she accidentally stepped into.

Sherlock just chuckles as he pulls her into the trees and begins walking back to the road. The shovel over his other shoulder. Molly Hooper hasn't changed much. He likes this, even if he won't say it.

Molly wants to ask him how many more left but she won't, he knows. That's why he asked her about coffee instead. He isn't completely unaware. He could use a small break. An hour of normalcy then he'll be gone again.

"Hey. How did you know I was there?" Molly is more relaxed at his side as she struggles slightly to match his stride. Damn those long legs of his!

Sherlock only gives her a smirk as they enter a small cafe that isn't very busy. "I do have my own devices. Black, two sugars." He reminds her as if she could forget that order.

She only rolls her eyes as he strolls over to an empty table and tries to look like a normal bloke who happens to have a dirty shovel in his possession.

"Sir, you can't have that in here."

Molly smiles as she orders for them. Only with Sherlock Holmes is this considered in the slightest bit normal. She finds it amusing and more nice than any meeting previously.

fin?

**Honestly wish I was a decent enough artist that I could draw the part where Sherlock is walking away with Molly and the shovel over his shoulder. Maybe someone could do that for me as a Valentine's Day gift? Haha**

**I can be hopeful. I hope you liked this. **

**I think this could be seen as more in canon than anything I have written so far. Hope you are well.**

**much love, day**


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